Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Not knowing what else to say, I called back, “It is I. Oracle Rye.”
“The Great and Terrible,” he whispered, horrified.
Jasher snorted. “Now we know how you earned your title. Terrifying a captain in Ahav’s army when he mistreated your favorite monstra.”
Not gonna smile, though I was suddenly kinda sorta proud of myself.
“Where’s the king?” Rourke demanded.
So we’d beaten Ahav to the finish line. “He should arrive soon. Any hour.” I wouldn’t panic. Not yet. “He asked us to meet him here.”
“Not good enough,” Rourke fired back. “Unless you have the key, you will not enter these gates.”
But I had no key. Ahav hadn’t offered one when he’d sent us here. He’d only said—I jerked straighter. “The way is marked in gold.” The king’s words. Please, be the key.
Bingo! The gate opened and guards rushed out, surrounding us.
“We’re here to see the queen.” The fastest path to the Ring of Truth. Without her permission, we’d have to wage war to get to the catacombs.
The circle of men parted, allowing Rourke to stride through. He was winded and sweating, clear signs he’d rushed down the parapet. He darted a quick, suspicious glance at Jasher. “Until the king says otherwise, the monstra cannot be in the same room as the queen.”
“I understand,” I said, and meant it.
“This way.” Rourke and his men maintained their positions around us as they led us inside. We were so totally surrounded, I couldn’t see past the sea of bodies. Not more than the occasional gilt-framed portraits hanging on the walls.
“I’ll go in with you,” Rourke said when we stopped before a closed door. He looked anywhere but at me. “My men will stay with your monstra.”
Jasher bent his head and pressed a soft kiss against my lips. Staking a claim? Making a statement? “I’ll be fine, princess.”
“See that you are.” Head high, I did my best to recreate my “terrifying” expression and scanned the others. Water droplets beaded on my skin, as if a dam to a river threatened to break at any moment. “If any harm comes to him, you will learn what it means to drown a thousand times before death.”
The men paled and stepped back.
“Now my threat to disembowel them just sounds silly,” Jasher mock-huffed. He waved me on. “Go on. Get it done.”
I blew him a kiss with my eyes before donning my all business expression, then nodded to the commander’s man, who opened the door. Rourke sailed in first, and I trailed on his heels. The others remained in the hallway with Jasher. The door closed behind us.
We stood in a spacious chamber with only Queen Sandrine—Andrea, the first water maiden—and the ten elite guards she always traveled with. She wore an apron and painted a mural on a wealth of flat stones.
What a tragic life she’d lived; I wanted only to hold her and never let go. After centuries spent dreaming of her husband’s death, she’d awoken to find his bones draped over her body. Crazed, she’d erased her memory and given up her power to save us all.
She burns, she wins.
Trembling, I took in the scene she created. The second I registered what she was painting, however, I fluttered my fingertips to my parted lips. I’d seen this before. The final battle between King Ahav and the monstra. An event that had yet to happen in this timeline.
Had she begun to remember the past, the veil between it and the future thinning?
“Y-your majesty,” I said.
She gave no reaction. Just kept painting.
“She’s been like this since you departed with the king. Lost in it,” Rourke admitted under his breath.
Inner wince. “Queen Sandrine,” I said, trying again. “I seek permission to enter the Ring of Truth with the monstra. Tinman. I’d like to do this now, even before Ahav returns—”
That did it. “Ahav?” She dropped the paintbrush and tray and spun to face me, only to scrunch up her features and drill her fists into her temples. “Dreams are coming in the daytime now, and I…I…” Her thought trailed off as she slanted her head, eyeing the circle of monstra she’d painted.
“The Ring of Truth,” I began, trying again. “I want to enter it with my Tinman.”
“Yes. Fine. I’ll stay here and…” Another trailing off. She gathered her supplies, then started painting again, adding her husband to the center, her audience forgotten.
I could stay here, hurting with her, or I could do what needed doing, now that I’d gained permission.
No need to think about it. “You heard her. Take me to the Ring of Truth,” I commanded the captain.
He nodded. “This way.”
With him in the lead, we strode into the hall. Jasher leaned against the wall, sharpening his claws. Spotting me, he straightened and slipped to my side. No guards attempted to stop him.
“We’re good to go.” I leaned my head on his shoulder, foreboding not just pricking my nape but clawing it. What we learned in the Ring of Truth could change everything. Again.